What You Cannot See, You Feel
by Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare
Summary: It's a trust exercise, really: Erik, to learn to trust Charles, permits Charles to blindfold him. It's also a self-control exercise, because Erik isn't bound -and Charles wouldn't do that anyway- so he has to hold himself back. .:. Fluffy and kinky PWP.


**A/N: Chuantilly on Tumblr left this message in my ask box: "I really love your Cherik! ;3; i was wondering if you would do something really fluffy and kinky for Cherik, First Class ;3; "**

**And, well, I thought to myself: "Fluffy AND kinky? So… sweet sex? lololol, I can definitely do that. XD -But the word 'kinky' makes me wanna add something to the tenderness. Something like…"**

**And thus, this smutty oneshot was born! Pfffft. **

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><p>Charles feels a thrill run through him as Erik trusts him enough to do this. Erik isn't bound, not in the least, but his eyes are covered with a blindfold, and he's sitting up, propped on pillows against the headboard of his bed in Charles' mansion, eager and waiting and increasingly impatient.<p>

If Charles had been the blindfolded one (and, knowing Erik, tied by the hands — at least, perhaps his feet as well! — along with the blindfold), it would have been too easy to predict Erik's movements by delving into his mind.

So, in place of that, Erik is the one who can't see what Charles will do, and even though he would have been just as easy to mask Erik's sight mentally to the point where Charles can move about the room invisibly, and even unheard (since everything is controlled by the brain, and Charles has dull access to that), this is less stressful for poor Erik.

But it's more annoying, because Erik keeps fidgeting, never knowing when Charles is going to move in, touch, move away, or tease. He forces himself not to grab Charles and bring him back, or hold him down. This is a game, a test of self-restraint and trust, and seeing who can outlast the other.

"Oh, Erik," Charles says, smile evident in his tone. Erik can feel the telepath lean in close, the body heat from his equally nude body felt against Erik's skin, making the hairs on his arms rise. His breath ghosts over the metalbender's ear, making him shiver. "If only you knew how lewd you look, open and waiting just for me. I wish I could take a picture."

"You better fucking _not,_" Erik growls, and Charles simply chuckles in reply, his mouth damp and warm on Erik's shoulder. It's the sole thing touching Erik, and Erik stiffens, not knowing if Charles is going to bite down, or —

But Charles is stubbornly gentle, only mouthing the curve of Erik's shoulder, placing open-mouthed kisses, and without warning, one of his hands reaches around Erik and rubs fingertips over the small of his back where he bows in front of the pillows, and that same hand teases a line down part of one cheek and across to his hip and partially down his thigh, and Charles' chest bumps his side, and oh, so _that's _where Charles is sitting.

Erik swallows, feeling painfully hard from their earlier kissing session before all this started, but he trusts Charles. He knows the telepath will bring release. Eventually.

"Charles… Can I touch you?" Erik asks quietly, disliking the raw, vulnerable feeling of having to ask when he normally likes to take control. But again, this is a test. A game. Seeing how long he can last without being too much like himself.

"Not yet," Charles says gently, one hand playing over Erik's chest, pressing to lean him back into Charles' arm against the pillows, and Erik can't see what Charles' open-book, expressive face to see what Charles could be planning, and if it bodes well. Some excited panic rises. "Shh, it's all right, Erik," Charles says, and oh,_oh. _He's climbing into Erik's lap, straddling his legs, their chests touching but Charles' hips purposely angled away, butt lifted in the air to keep their lengths from touching. "I won't do anything you won't like, aside from keeping the blindfold on."

"…All right," Erik murmurs, breathless, as Charles starts running the tip of his nose softly against Erik's lightly stubbled jaw, and then downward, grazing his throat until he feels Charles' petal-soft lips on his collarbone.

Charles worships Erik's torso, hands massaging Erik's back and shoulders and rubbing along his arms, mouth ever at work on scarred and tanned skin. Erik's lungs begin to ache from panting, his heart battering around in his chest cavity as he tilts his head back, blindfold almost comfortable on his face, and feels more intensely each and ever movement.

He moans, and when he does, Charles' hands find purchase on Erik's inner thighs, the telepath's body slinking down and away for a moment, and Erik gasps, wondering where Charles went, until he feels his legs being spread, and a body brushing his knees.

He groans lowly, it being nothing but a rumble in his throat, his heart skipping a beat. "Charles, you don't plan to —?"

Charles responds mentally, _All is well, Erik. Relax, please. I promise you won't mind what I have planned._

The metalbender nods hastily, hands clenching into the sheets as he refrains from reaching out to find Charles. His member leaks pre-come in anticipation, and he licks his lips, his breathing slowing as he feels Charles' hands slide along his thighs, over his bent knees in the air and then stopping to grip his ankles, palms resting on the top of his feet.

"What are you—" he tries again, but Charles shushes him. Not with a sound, but instead with an action; his lips pressing to the inner-side of one knee, then the other, and then his hands pushing Erik's legs to fold more, Charles pressing inward to reach with his mouth to what feels like— ah, yes, lips and tongue closing softly and warmly over the center of Erik's scrotum, and he nearly cries out at the sudden sensation.

Charles is surprisingly dirty, but it could be because he cares about Erik so much that there isn't an inch of Erik, in his head and on his body, that Charles doesn't love and adore and accept.

Erik stifles all sounds with a hand in his mouth, teeth biting down deftly on his own skin, right over the meaty part below his thumb. Charles goes on like that, licking and suckling Erik at the base and slowly moving upward, accidentally nosing sensitive flesh, and never quite going to the head.

His hands are pressed up against Erik's inner hipbones, Charles' thumbs stretched down to rub just on either side of Erik's entrance, indirectly spreading his legs more. Erik feels too hot in the face and his breath is turning into whimpering gasps, and he knows that solely Charles Xavier can reduce him to this, make him feel this way.

Charles slides a hand up along Erik's shaft to tenderly grip the head and rotate the tip of it into the center of his loose fist, the creases of his palm rubbing along Erik's slit, and it's too much, far too much, and Erik can't help but to moan Charles' name, his eyes wrenched shut beneath the black blindfold.

"I have one more thing for you, Erik," Charles says, breathing against the damp skin of Erik's member, and, suddenly, Erik feels the tickling of Charles' hair, a brush of sweaty skin, and then…

"_Mein Gott!"_ Erik exclaims, and to anyone else, it would have been considered a yelp. He slips into German of all the languages he knows, and he squirms, leaning backward, away from Charles' hot, wet mouth because, _fuck, _he just put his _tongue _around the rim of Erik's _entrance._

"Don't shy away, Erik; I know you liked that. It was an odd sensation, a foreign and unexpected one, but I felt the pleasure burst in your mind," Charles says, and if he had been Erik, he would have smirked and sounded smug. But no, not Charles; he sounds understanding and gentle. He leans up and Erik is suddenly being kissed, and he's just glad that he's clean down there, or else he might be tasting himself right now. Thankfully, all he tastes is Charles' lips.

"Do you want me to do it again, more this time?" Charles asks kindly, his voice a whisper and one of his hands balancing him on the bed, forearm brushing Erik's ribs, and the telepath's other hand coming back Erik's hair where it isn't caught in the blindfold. "Because I want to make you feel wonderful, Erik. And I want you to know that you don't have to hide or keep a thing from me."

And this has double-meaning, and it makes a shudder of mixed emotion run down Erik's spine.

With a dry mouth and unsteady voice, he croaks hoarsely, "Then I won't." And he nods the rest of his consent, head toward where he thinks Charles' face is, and he doesn't trust the words that would come out if he agreed to it more verbally, because he fears that he might start to beg, and Erik Lehnsherr is no beggar.

Charles might be smiling, or he might be nodding, but soon, his presence hear Erik's face is gone, and in seconds, his mouth is wrapped around the head of Erik's manhood, tongue sliding down the front, over tender flesh until it's warm and soft and damp against his entrance, slippery tongue revealing itself after a kiss to the ring of muscle.

Erik struggles, shaking just below the skin as he tries to remember how to breathe. Charles' tongue laps and gently prods inward and suckles, teeth grazing the inner skin of Erik's cheeks as Charles makes the spot feel shockingly clean and dirty at the same time, his mouth a wonder as one hand pumps along Erik's shaft, corkscrewing at the top to run over and around the head.

It's all too much, and just as Charles' mouth leaves Erik's hole and presses a kiss to one of Erik's inner thighs, Charles' hand does a particularly swift jerk and brings about Erik's climax, his body rolling with the waves of pleasure, his hips rocking as he rides it out and hears Charles hum contentedly at whatever sight he must be seeing.

When it's all done, Erik raises his hands to remove the blindfold. Charles doesn't stop him. He blinks into the light, eyes adjusting to the fireplace and the low lamplight. He spies Charles sitting between his legs, hands on Erik's raised knees, and he's smiling serenely.

"Enjoyed yourself?" Charles asks as he humbly comes forward and lays on top of Erik's chest, arms folding in front of him, chin on his wrist. "Because I did."

Erik smiles, glad he can finally wrap his arms around his lover and press a kiss to Charles' forehead. "I did. Thank you for that."

"In your head, upon orgasm, you said you loved me," Charles points out very quietly, his face blushing and his eyes fluttering. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Erik's jaw. "Which isn't an unusual thing to think spontaneously during sex, but I wonder: how true is it?"

"Very true," Erik replies as gently as he can. "I love you, Charles. Even when you do these things to me knowingly, ever the tease, I still love you."

Charles looks like he might cry or grin, and he winds up doing a bit of both, one corner of his mouth quirking into a smile while a single tear rolls down his cheek. "Fantastic, because I was afraid that my own sentiments might be unrequited. I wasn't sure if I was a good shag for you or something more."

"Oh? Because I was wondering the same. I suppose this trust exercise came in handy then, didn't it? We went in thinking the worst and discovered the best. Well played, my telepathic friend," Erik responds with a hint of a grin playing on his lips.

Charles laughs breathlessly, with relief, and snuggles against Erik's body, his length oddly soft and his abdomen sticky; he got off on just that, or had he touched himself? Erik wouldn't know, he hadn't been able to see, but he wonders…

"…And that will remain a mystery to you forever," Charles jokes in reference to that thought. He hums and closes his eyes. "And now I am tired, my love. Might we hit the hay?"

"We _might?_" Erik answers sarcastically. "Of _course _we will. I'm beat. You tire me out, Charles Xavier."

Charles huffs half a laugh and rolls off of Erik to lie on his back, eyes closed. "Then shut off the lamps with a flick of your wrist and shut off the gas knob on the fireplace, and let's sleep," he says.

Erik does so, never quite as grateful for metal objects in the room and his gift, because he is far too tired to move.

In the sweet bliss of darkness, Erik gets under the covers, fluffs the pillows, and curls up behind Charles with a protective, possessive grip around the other man, and where they spoon, he falls deeply into slumber, Charles not far behind.


End file.
